


K-I-S-S-I-N-G

by goingtothetardis



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Kissing, Matchmaker TARDIS, Meddling TARDIS, Prompt Fic, Rain, hiding out in the rain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 13:43:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13571760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goingtothetardis/pseuds/goingtothetardis
Summary: “I thought you said it wasn’t gonna rain!”





	K-I-S-S-I-N-G

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thewolfsdoctor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewolfsdoctor/gifts).



> Thewolfsdoctor on tumblr requested: Ten/Rose with 'in the storm' and 'happy birthday.'  
> I also used this week's Doctorroseprompts drabble prompt: 'cave.'
> 
> Once again this ficlet got entirely out of control, but it was a lot of fun to write (and I totally procrastinated on running until it started raining outside....oops....) and I hope you enjoy it!!
> 
> Unbeta'd.

“I thought you said it wasn’t gonna rain!” Rose squints through the rain as she runs next to the Doctor, hoping she won’t trip over a fallen tree or a rock hidden under leaves. Wet clothes rub uncomfortably against her skin, and her soaked trousers thwap noisily between her ankles. She dreads to think of what her makeup looks like, likely running in black rivers of mascara down her face.

“I checked! Triple checked! Quadruple checked! Sunshine and a light breeze! That’s what it said, I promise, Rose!” The Doctor gazes earnestly in her direction, and despite her need to focus on the path in front of her, she spares him a quick glance. He’s soaked to the bone, just as she is, and his majestic hair lies pathetically against his forehead like a wet mop. 

They look a right mess. 

Rose runs several more paces until she finds the breath to reply. “Well, ‘s not helping us now, is it?” She waves at the sky. “Figures it’d turn into a storm.”

“Rose Tyler,” the Doctor says beside her, his voice elevating with fierce determination, “I promised you a sunny birthday adventure, and you’ll get a sunny birthday adventure.” He splashes through a giant puddle, coating Rose with a new layer of mud, and he cringes when she makes a noise of protest. “Er, as soon as we find the TARDIS.”

“Right, as soon as you find the–  _ Wait. _ Did you just say ‘as soon as we  _ find _ the TARDIS?’” She stops in her tracks and plants her hands on her hips, leveling a steely glare at the Doctor. (Well, as much as she can with rain streaming into her eyes.) 

The Doctor tugs on his ear. “Ah, well, I always know where She is, but I can’t exactly feel Her at the moment.”

Rose crosses her arms over her chest. “What do you mean you can’t  _ feel _ Her?” 

With a swallow, the Doctor continues, looking nervously over Rose’s shoulder. “She’s there, in here. She’s always there,” he points at his head, “but for some reason She’s blocking everything else right now, and our bond is how I always know where She is.” He frowns, jutting out his lower lip, and Rose sighs. 

“Well, come on, then,” she grumbles, wondering why the TARDIS decided to leave  _ her _ out in the storm. No need to punish  _ her _ for something their daft Time Lord did. “‘M not gonna stand around in this rain all day. Is there a cave or somethin’ around here? Not that it’ll help much.”

The Doctor’s eyes brighten with interest. “A cave!” 

He smiles a brilliant, crooked grin at Rose, and she smiles back, despite her irritation. She’s never able to resist the Doctor’s pure, unadulterated joy for adventure.

“Well, then?” She lifts her eyebrows in expectation. “Is there some place to wait out the storm?”

He leans down close, well into her personal space, and she’s unable to tear her eyes from his, which dance with excitement. “I don’t know. Let’s find out.” Then without wasting another second, he grabs her hand and pulls her onward.

* * *

 

Twenty-three minutes later, Rose sits close to the Doctor and pulls his beloved brown coat over both of them, attempting to stay warm even after the Doctor’s efforts to dry their clothes with his sonic. Instead of a cave, they’d found an enormous dead tree, it’s center emptied and rotted out years before. Much to her surprise, it’s protected them well enough from the incessant rain, and she reckons it’s probably more comfortable than the stone floor of a cave.

“Happy Birthday, Rose,” the Doctor whispers in her ear, and she turns to him in exasperation, taking his hand and threading his fingers through his at the same time.

“You owe me,” she says with a smirk, sticking her tongue between her teeth and watching with satisfaction as the Doctor’s eyes zero in on the action. “I think,” she pauses, drawing out the thought, “oh, a month of birthdays.  _ At least.  _ And no more rain.”

He sighs, a long-suffering thing, but bumps her shoulder. “I suppose that can be arranged. I’ll make sure the TARDIS is on her best behavior.”

Rose pokes him in the chest. “You’d better.” She leans into him again, her mind racing furiously, then decides to act on her next thought. A bit of birthday courage, perhaps. “And for this inconvenience today, I think I have an idea for my first birthday present.”

The Doctor shifts slightly to better look at her in the dim light. “Oh?”

“Yep,” Rose answers, popping the ‘p.’ 

She nudges the coat off them and sits up, moving a leg to straddle the Doctor’s. His eyes widen in shock, but he does nothing to push her away. Encouraged, she scoots forward on her knees until she’s a breath’s distance away from him, then slowly, to allow any kind of resistance or refusal, she leans down and touches her lips to his. 

The moment their skin touches, soft sparks of pleasure race across her lips, and she gasps into his mouth, which opens under hers willingly. His hands reach around her and settle into place on her hips, holding her in place against his body. 

Rose snakes a hand behind his head and tangles his hair in her fingers,  _ finally _ fulfilling a long-time desire (and fantasy). He moans at into her mouth at her touch, and she smiles against him. Pulling back slightly and staring into his dark brown eyes, she manages a word. “Yeah?”

“Oh yes,” the Doctor responds, his voice breathless. “Very much yes.” 

“Good,” Rose says, before returning her lips to his and exploring fantasy one through twelve regarding kissing his very kissable lips.

* * *

 

The next morning, when they awake together in a tangle of clothed limbs while lying on a bed of damp leaves, Rose blinks blearily at the bright sunlight streaming through the opening of the tree. 

“Morning, Rose,” the Doctor mumbles sleepily against her neck, and she shivers against him. 

Rose places a soft kiss on his nose. “The TARDIS back?”

The Doctor carefully untangles himself from her, and Rose grins up at him, secretly proud of the way she’d turned his hair into a riotous disaster during their passionate kissing the previous day. 

“Hmmmm,” he says, closing his eyes and wrinkling his forehead. “She’s laughing at me.” 

Rose pulls the Doctor’s coat around her to ward off the morning chill. “What’d’ya mean?” She yawns loudly. 

Huffing in annoyance, the Doctor scowls at the tree. “She  _ wanted  _ us to get trapped in the rain!” His voice is the very definition of indignant arrogance, and Rose smirks. 

“So you’re saying your sentient Time Ship is a matchmaker?” 

The Doctor’s eyes bulge in surprise and horror and some emotion she can’t quite identify, and she smiles at the utter hilarity of it all. 

“Just admit it, Doctor, she’s a matchmaker!” Rose falls over laughing, delighted with the TARDIS and endlessly amused at the Doctor’s reaction. 

“What?!” He splutters uselessly. “My magnificent  _ Time Ship  _ is  _ not _ a matchmaker.”

Rose laughs and remembers a silly song from her childhood. “Doctor and Rose, sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G…”

  
  



End file.
